


Hope for Assassins

by sugartrash



Series: Break Sugar's Block [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, POV Dorian Pavus, PWP, alcohol reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:33:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugartrash/pseuds/sugartrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>9. Up against the wall</p><p>Another kink prompt, same song and dance. Someone wants Dorian dead, someone else has hired Zevran to make sure that doesn't happen. They have their own ideas about what should happen when they're in the same bloody alley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope for Assassins

Dorian was drunk. Not terribly but pleasantly. The kind of drunk he'd like to be if he had to, say, go to tea with someone insufferable. Certainly not so drunk as to make walking back to the hotel in Val Royeaux a dangerous choice, not on a night like tonight.

The moon over Val Royeaux was a silver coin hung just out of reach, bright enough to dim the stars. Between the moon and the street lamps, the city was luminous in spite of the hour. Dorian hummed a bawdy tavern song under his breath--he only remembered the words like cocks and clocks or he'd have been singing it. A scuffle up ahead that sounded like a lover's spat, messy at the best of times and more so since someone had just thrown the contents of a chamber pot out the window, diverted him down a narrow walkway that would curve around to meet up with the street where he needed to be.

He adored Val Royeaux for all her little nooks and crannies. Like a crumpet that way, tasty and full of private places where sun and shadows ran like butter and honey. Now he was hungry, eager to get back to his suite where he could wallow in a bath while servants brought him wine and cake.

Something dark fluttered above him, stopping him in his tracks, and in the next instant a body hit the ground in front of him with a wet thump that suggested it was already dead. Dorian spun around in time to dodge a cudgel swung at his head. Another shadow dropped, this one alive and graceful, and a flash of silver slit the throat of his assailant before the man could try again.

"What the--" He stood fumbling for words, belatedly bringing up a spell to shield himself, as the only living person left looted both bodies with surprising speed.

"Don't mind me." The voice was light, amused, and definitely Antivan. "My work here is done, at least for tonight."

"Your work?" Dorian recovered enough to snap off a spell that wreathed the man in ice before he could saunter off into the night.

"Magic? How rude." The man shook off the spell like shedding water. "Though, not undeserved." He turned on his heel, bowed deeply, then pushed back his hood as he straightened. "Zevran Arainai, at your service."

Well. Dorian liked the sound of that, especially since Zevran Arainai was, at least by the light of the moon, a wickedly handsome and golden-haired elf.

"What work is that?"

"Why, saving your life, of course." Zevran held up one hand. "No, no, don't thank me. I've already been paid. Though, if you'd like to thank me some other way..." He looked Dorian over from head to toe. "I'm sure we can come to an arrangement though I fear it must be quick as I am expected within the hour."

"I beg your pardon." Dorian tried to get control of the situation for the second time and doubted he'd have any better success. "Did you just kill two men in order to save my life and then proposition me?"

"A man and a woman, to be precise. The first one was a woman. Magnificent thighs, too. Such a shame." Zevran's face fell but his sorrow, such as it was, was gone in the next instant. "Still, I think it would have been more of a loss to see as fine a man as yourself departed from this world, and over something no doubt petty and unworthy of the crime of depriving us all of your exceptional beauty. But, in answer to your question, yes that is precisely it. I slaughtered two people on your behalf and then offered you a sexual assignation here and now. Though, regretably, not as long a one as I would like."

Dorian didn't have an answer he could articulate. Adrenaline and arousal left him speechless so he grabbed Zevran by the front of his--heavy, soft, dense, suede--jerkin and pushed him up against the wall to kiss him hard. He felt more than heard Zevran's laugh as the elf yielded. Dorian had no doubt that it was yielding, the body pinned between his and the wall was all muscle and sinew and bone, a trap waiting to spring. Instead of doing harm, though, Zevran kissed him back eagerly, as if Dorian were a lover from whom he'd long been parted.

Zevran smelled of resin, on the hands for grip even when bloody, and leather, his night stalking gear, and magnolias--for some reason his thick, silky hair smelled of magnolias. His skin, when Dorian pushed his clothes aside, was satin cut with a network of scars from stabbings and floggings and worse. He undid his belt and breeches for Dorian and his cock was hard and hot and perfect against Dorian's unsteady hand.

"Say you're staying in town," Dorian whispered against his neck. He kissed Zevran there hard enough to draw a gasp as his teeth sunk in and he sucked blood to the surface.

"I fear I should not reveal my plans, yet I cannot lie either, especially not when you touch me this way." Zevran rolled his hips, painting Dorian's palm with a smear of wetness where the head of his cock passed over it. "I will be staying, yes."

"I'd be a fool to think you couldn't lie through anything." Dorian knotted his free hand in Zevran's hair, tugging Zevran's head back to turn his face to the moonlight. There was no fear there, just lust and the ghost of a grin.

"I confess, you have me there. Though I indulge myself by being honest with you." Zevran winked at him, then chuckled. "One of the worst vices for men like you and I to have, the need to tell the truth. But still I do it, I have no shame. I think you should fuck me now so I can remember this as the night I was taken by the prettiest man in Thedas and not as the night I was uncharacteristically late for a meeting."

Dorian kissed him on the mouth, torn between laughter and frustration, before turning him around to face the wall. Zevran obliged him, moving to stand with his hands splayed against the brick, feet well apart, pants sliding down to bare his ass. A vulnerable position.

"You could kill me before I could get a spell off, couldn't you?" Dorian ran an appreciative hand over that ass.

"I hate to sully our delightful connection but yes, it is true." Zevran wriggled his hips invitingly, then tossed his hair as he looked over his shoulder at Dorian. "Several times over, and more if I were to employ a weapon. If it arouses you, I could count the ways." He stopped to glance at the assassins' corpses and the pools of blood shimmering in the moonlight. "In detail."

"Another time." Dorian stripped his pants open with the flick of his wrist and sighed with relief as the cool night air hit his skin. "I don't suppose you have any--"

"Lubricant, yes." Zevran held up a little brass jar before Dorian had the words out. "Always, my friend. For hinges, locks, anything tight you need loosened up so you can get inside."

"Are you..." Dorian had to stop talking because he couldn't speak, laugh, and open the jar all at once, not without losing control of at least one of them.

"Incorrigible, yes. See, we know each other so well already, I can finish your sentences for you."

"Is this so you and I can both say that we did not fuck a random stranger in an alley full of corpses?" Dorian bit his lip as he slicked salve over his erection. It was cool, neutral, and incredibly slippery. He really needed some of that.

"Again. But yes." Zevran leaned back to kiss Dorian and Dorian's cock slid against the smooth skin at the base of his spine. For a moment, the pleasure and the kiss addled him too much to parse the word.

Again. For some reason that made it all even better, even better than the smell of blood and magnolias and the strange safety of being with someone who could and would kill for him. Dorian dropped the brass jar back into Zevran's hand.

"Your secret is safe with me." Dorian slid his clean hand into Zevran's hair to grip him by the back of the neck, holding him still while he slid his slick fingers down between Zevran's asscheeks.

"Let's not stand on ceremony you and I," Zevran purred, arching his back to invite Dorian in. "Men of action and experience have little time for pleasantries."

"That's a pretty way of saying you don't mind if it hurts," Dorian muttered in his ear as he pressed in. Maker's breath, that was hot and tight and almost too good.

"I simply know myself." Zevran's voice was unsteady but then he laughed. "And I would hate to be late to that meeting. My client is most particular about timing but you are far too exquisite to pass up. I look forward to feeling this for hours to come."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Dorian got the words out from between clenched teeth. He was unprepared for this in every way, too anxious, too full of adrenaline, and bubbling with an undercurrent of rage that someone had tried to kill him. He pulled out and then thrust back in hard enough to get a sharp gasp out of Zevran. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me who tried to have me killed?"

"I do try to maintain some professionalism," Zevran hissed, his fingernails grating on the brick. "I can't reveal anything to you, that client was most explicit, but if you were to check your pockets some time tomorrow, I can't account for what you find there. I would hate for someone so pretty to leave this world too soon. Of course, I feel the same about myself."

"I rather like you." Dorian tightened his grip on the nape of Zevran's neck, grabbed him by the hip with the other, and was rewarded with a moan and shudder. More than liked--this was better than he'd had in years. "Tell me I can make you come like this."

"All you need to do is ask, if the timing is right." Zevran writhed under him, driving Dorian as much as Dorian was driving him. Experienced was an understatement, the man was a master of his body. "Just..." He shifted slightly, forcing Dorian to move with him. "Ah, yes, that. There."

"Fasta vass." Dorian gave up trying to be in control of anything at all right now. His body plunged on like a horse with the bit, he fucked Zevran relentlessly enough that apologies built up in the back of his throat but only came out as gasps and moans muffled against the black leather of Zevran's jerkin. Zevran was supple and taut at once under him, so tight around his cock, taking everything Dorian had to give. "Maker, Zevran, please come."

"Of course, my friend." Of course the bastard had to get in the last word before he came, grinding back into Dorian's hips and shuddering with pleasure. Last word because Dorian couldn't speak, his curses and whines got lost as he bit down on Zevran's shoulder. Zevran wrung Dorian's orgasm out of him so hard it almost hurt to come, a wrenching release that came all the way up from his toes.

When the pleasure passed, Dorian sagged against Zevran who, while still shivering slightly, took his weight as though it were nothing. Son of a bitch. Dorian didn't know how he was going to get home. He didn't know how he was going to stand up. He buried his face in Zevran's sweet-smelling hair and breathed deeply to recover.

"I do believe the antidote to any traumatic experience is to remember what makes life worthwhile," Zevran said at last. He reached back to slap Dorian on the hip, effectively dismissing him.

"Just part of the service then?" Dorian pulled out, barely keeping his balance, then stepped on the outstretched hand of one of the assassins who'd tried to kill him and nearly went down again. All the Pavus grace and charm seemed to have fled for the moment.

"Ah, such innocence. Never assume I'm talking about you when I could be talking about me." Zevran put his back to the wall as he did his pants up. He looked up at Dorian from behind the golden veil of his hair and flashed him a grin.

"Long day?" Dorian felt an unnerving pang of concern for someone who was both a stranger and a killer.

"Day. Week. Who counts, unless one is trying to avoid being late?" Zevran glanced up at the moon. "Speaking of which."

"Will I... how do I contact you?" Dorian stopped himself before he reached out to grab Zevran by the sleeve as he passed. Zevran paused on the edge of the shadows in the alley. "If I were to hire you. Or something. Of course. I might want people killed some day."

"I imagine you want people killed right now, Messere Pavus," Zevran said lightly. "Sadly, I am not for hire for a man like yourself, a better man than those to whom I sell my services. Fortunately for you, others still want you dead and my contract to deny them remains. Hope for assassins, my friend, and I will be there."

 


End file.
